


in which you meet a wizard without knowing

by pepero



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Magic, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, Kim Taehyung | V as Howl Pendragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27878937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepero/pseuds/pepero
Summary: While your sisters dreamt of riches and success, you've always stuck to what you've known. It’s better that way, less risky. Your hats can go out into the world for you.Then along came a mystery of a man, and with him, an unexpected adventure.howl's moving castle!au oneshot
Relationships: Kim Taehyung | V/Reader
Kudos: 7





	in which you meet a wizard without knowing

**Author's Note:**

> this has a slight twist and travels between 3 different povs

In all his years of drifting, the spirit has never met someone who sought him out. Some took a little coaxing, a little dangling of the fruit -- soft and full, sweet with the juice of summer -- before they took a bite. Others took a slight push off the edge, and still others liked to wear him down, but _this_.

This boy was ripe for the taking. He wasn’t innocent, no. He knew what he’d come for, and that pleased the spirit. He shrunk himself into the size of a kumquat and leapt into the boy’s hands. 

_Once the deed is done,_ the spirit began, _there is no undoing._

The boy told him he knew. He was very solemn about it. He had the face of someone who would have one day made a great hero.  
  
The spirit looked at him with what could be mistaken for pity.

Then the boy brought him up to his lips and the spirit swallowed his heart.  
  
…  
  
The rumors flying about the wizard V are quite the sensation.

They give him flair; an air of dark, beguiling intrigue he does not wish for, yet welcomes all the same. They give him a character to play. And now, he’s landed the part of a dashing escapee, leading his pursuers down a network of sharp turns and secret alleys.

Ahead, the sun gleams like a penny scrubbed to shine. The sky is sweet and rosy. A guard courts a young lady…how trite. V would have left the two alone had he not noticed the lady, no lure of a smile or blush upon her cheeks.

You back away, your dress blending in with the wall. Your eyes search desperately for an escape, eventually finding his. Well. He sighs. It wasn’t as if he was planning to leave you be. That would be quite heartless.

"I'm late, aren't I?" V asks, announcing his presence. "Forgive me, I lost track of the time. To the theatre?"

You accept his proffered arm, hesitant. He can tell you're a bit wary, and rightly so.  
  
“And where do you think you’re going?” The guard demands, blocking his exit. “The lady and I haven’t finished our talk.”  
  
V suppresses a scoff. "I think you are.”  
  
In an instant, the guard straightens. His eyes widen. “What--” He starts, but marches stiffly away before he can finish.  
  
With the pest gone, V turns his attention back to you...who really can’t be more than twenty. You look dreary in your choice of attire -- gray shawl, gray dress, dull hat over a meek face. If it were not for your stunned look, he’d say you lacked spark. Yet his business lies not in assessing your appearance. He's running short on time. “Where will you be off to?”  
  
“Pardon?”  
  
“I’ll be your escort for the evening."  
  
“Oh,” you blurt out, letting go of his arm, “thank you, but an escort won’t be necessary. Have a good evening, sir.” With a hasty dip of your head, you leave, bumping into a woman in the process. When you move to apologize, you realize she has no face.

Just a dark head and a liquid, convulsing body.

"Let's go," the gentleman says, and this time when he approaches, you don’t hesitate to take his arm. "So where to?"

"Cesari's," you whisper. It’s where your sister works, and you've been worried enough as it is.

He nods, guiding you briskly down a cobbled path. "I'd advise you not to look back."

In the distance, you hear a collective groaning, the crack of wood splintering. Low at first, the groaning rises steadily in pitch, the crack of wood quickening like strikes of a whip drawing blood. Your heart drums fast. Suddenly, a dark creature swoops toward you, screaming shrilly. V turns you abruptly to the right. 

Phantoms lurk around the corner, shrieking as they lunge, but the next alley leads to a wall. Your breath catches. From the cracks burst out more phantoms, and you grip the gentleman's sleeve, squeezing your eyes shut.

...

The next moment, you can't feel the ground. The howling and screeching begin to fade, growing softer and softer until you can hear them no more.

You venture a look.

"Careful," the gentleman warns, but it's too late for that. "We're quite high up."

Quite high up? You'd have to be -- you don't know, geography has never been your strong suit -- a few hundred meters above the ground! You're _flying_. There’s nothing to hold onto except the gentleman's bejewelled hands, and while the view of Market Chipping is beautiful, you're going to _fall_.

"Are you mad?" You ask, trying not to panic. 

He laughs. "I'm surprised you didn't notice. Now take a step." 

Your first one is shaky. Without any surface to step on, it feels like you're sinking before rising again. 

"Imagine you're taking a stroll," he suggests. "I find having a song in mind helps."

"What would you think of?"

"Liszt."

You look at him as if he's lost his mind. He grins. "Wasn't it you who called me mad?"

"Let's just improvise," you say, ignoring his cheeky quip. " _Together._ "

So you both do. To distract you from your stubborn fear (so tangible _he_ can feel it), V coaxes you into giving him a tour of Market Chipping. At first, you insist it's been quite some time since you've set foot outside and you're likely missing a place or few. _How long is quite some time,_ he asks, mostly in jest, and is surprised when you tell him. He doesn’t show it. Instead, he assures you it’s of little import, because really, he's just settled in, and do you know any merchants who sell paintings? He's been itching for something to spruce up his residence -- the walls are bleak and empty.

By the time you reach Cesari’s, the stars are just beginning to shimmer. Night falls rapidly over the horizon, and you're surprised at the sudden desire you feel to prolong the conversation. "Would you like to come in for biscuits and tea? I'm sure Joy can get us a discount--" You catch yourself, noting the lustrous gold winding his velvet cape, the violet glint of sapphires dangling from his ears. "Not that you'll need it."

"No," he says, releasing your hand gently. "But I appreciate the offer. I must get going."

"Good night, then," you say. "And thank you for escorting me. I enjoyed your company."

He smiles a soft smile, his most disarming one yet. "The pleasure is all mine."

...

The sweet smell of cinnamon and sugar beckons you into Cesari's, yet you don't feel the urge to enter. Lingering by the balcony, you watch the festivities still occurring, the lights and colorful dresses appearing small from above, a bit like you’re peering through a snow globe. For the first time in a while, you feel a childlike fascination, a familiar flare of hope. You hadn't realized you missed it.

Too late you realize you should have asked for the gentleman's name. 

"Who was that?" A bright voice, clear out of nowhere, asks. "I didn't get a good look."

"Joy!" You exclaim, recognizing the fair features of your sister. Although she seems a bit thinner. It worries you, but you bite your tongue. Joy, after all, doesn't take to chiding. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting some fresh air." She stretches leisurely, a mischievous grin on her lips. "So imagine my surprise when I hear my sister offering a discount without consulting me first."

"You heard that?"

" _The pleasure is all mine,_ " she mimics, putting on an exaggerated, deep tone.

"Well, I suppose it serves me right."

"Oh, please!" Joy laughs. "You don't have to be so serious. What are biscuits and tea compared to your happiness?"

"Not--"

"No," she interrupts. "Don't answer that. I'm doing well here despite the amount of pesky suitors. They're nothing I can't handle, so j...just let me help you thrive, too. So long as it isn't V you're handing your heart to."

You miss the awkward pause in Joy's words, touched and baffled as you are by her sentiment. "Doesn't he only eat the hearts of beauties? I'd be more concerned if I were you."

"Or," she muses, "he feeds on beautiful, innocent hearts, and we've been fools all along." When she looks at you, chills creep up your spine. 

"Are you trying to frighten me?"

"Well, do you have a beautiful heart?" She retorts.

"I don't _know_."

"Exactly," she says. "No one knows why V chose to stay here of all places. That's why we--"

"Joy!" Someone shouts from inside.

"I'm on break!" She shouts back, but the woman calls out to her again. Joy pulls an annoyed face, and for a second, you think you see a bit of Irene in her expression. Then she breathes and returns to her pleasant self. "Come in." She twists the doorknob open. "I'll finish telling you later." 

As you follow her, a creature slithers under the balcony, quiet for now.

It's dark and pulsing.


End file.
